The Hard Goodbye

Today was a day of goodbyes. 

 I couldn't let myself really sink into the goodbye's too deeply or I wouldn't have been able to move on to the next. 

 It started with my last visit to the hospital where my boys receive their therapies once a week. 

We go two different days a week for 3 different boys. 

 One of the secretaries I have been chit chatting casual conversations with for the last 9 years.  Knowing that I would not be walking into that waiting room again was hard enough, but when I left there I went to my hardest goodbye......

The hard goodbye that leaves me tear soaked and childlike.

  The one that emotionally has my child me clinging to legs and begging to stay while the rational me pulls that clinging child away.

 It was a very hard goodbye. 

 I couldn't let myself sink completely into it while I was there. 

 Now that it is 7 hours later the depth of it is washing over me. 

 I want to run back in time and say more, feel more, be more, but there is no running back into time; 

  no re-opening that door and clinging to legs for one more moment.

So I will breathe and lay back into it, try to float above these lapping waves of sadness so that they don't over take me. 

I know that the sun will rise tomorrow and that the hurting child will calm and somehow learn to grow. 

But for now I will let her and I ride on these emotions,

because if I don't we both might drown.

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When a person becomes your Jesus and you have to say goodbye

"What are you taking with you?"


She asked me this in regards to our time together.  Knowing that it is ending soon.  The relationship that isn't, is coming to it's end and she wants to know what I will bring with me from the last two years.

I am not good on the spot.  Words don't really like to come unless they are formed under fingertips and key strokes.  I told her I was going to bring a pocket sized her with me.  My pocket sized Mireille.  Her voice questioning my responses/viewpoints on events and my take on them.  In otherwords I would be bringing grace with me.  In times when my own voice is harsh, hurtful, and critical her voice will be there too, challenging the status quo of my relationship with myself. 



The more I press these keys the more I realize that she has become my Jesus.

Not that I worship her.  Nor do I find her perfect or my savior.

But I hear Him in her.  I hear Him in her voice, her words, her insights.  There have been times when I have sat mute with a mind full of words but not a sound to be made; and it is as if Jesus has given her the words to say.  I have almost felt Him whispering them to her in her spirit, because that is the only way she would have known.  Known how to speak grace into the hateful spiteful words that encompassed my mind, to break through that cloud of self loathing and shame. Her ability to speak the unspeakable for me.  It is the first time I have ever felt understood.  It was a super natural understanding.  The same Jesus who walks the echoing hallways of my memories also lives inside of her and He was letting her in without me saying a word. 

I will miss her and her Jesus voice.  Her ability to listen to words that haven't been spoken.  It is a rare gift. 

I am not sure yet how I am going to be able to say goodbye, because how do you say goodbye to someone like that in your life?  But I will have to and it is coming.

Can you relate?  Have you been here? 

I keep thinking of that day in heaven when I get to run up to her and I will get to say, "Look, look, I made it!" and she will get to see me twirling instead of falling. I will be able to grab her hand and tell her the rest of my story.  I will get to paint the images of the roads I was able to journey with words that no longer need to be typed because she and her Jesus voice helped me to start walking again.  And it is that day that will allow me to get through the soon coming goodbye day, because the goodbye is only temporary in the eternal scheme of things. 


Linking up with Emily and Imperfect Prose